


Rumors

by Lumeriel



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, Finwë needs to know more about his sons' life, Incest, M/M, Rumors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 17:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeriel/pseuds/Lumeriel
Summary: There's a rumor: that Prince Nolofinwë has a lover... and everyone has its own way to react at this.





	Rumors

**Author's Note:**

> Kemendil: friend, lover of the earth; pl: Kemendili  
> I use this word to name a supposed cult that I think resembles a bit the vision of the British cults in The Mists of Avalon. I read the books recently and I have always imagined that elves are creatures related to fertility and nature - less aristocratic and more ... you know.

**Anairë**  


“I think Arakáno is having an affair” Anairë commented in a slow voice before taking a long drink of wine.  


Eärwen drowned in his drink as Nerdanel frowned, leaving the cards. Írien just raised his eyebrows.  


“Where do you get that idea?” Mathan's daughter asked as she leaned over the table.  
“Of ... things”, the brunette responded vaguely. “Details.”  
“What kind of details, dear?” insisted his sister-in-law.  
“Well, details ... uh ... intimate details. We don’t ... I mean, it's been almost a month since we have ... well, we have not…" She hid her growing blush behind the crystal glass. “Two months ago Arakáno moved to another room, according to him so as not to disturb me while he was working; but things continued quite normal. Yesterday it was a month ago that we do not have sex.” She finished hurriedly.  


The other three shared a puzzled look.  


“One month” Eärwen repeated. “And you are complaining.”  
“Well ... I'm not complaining; but there is definitely something there.”  
“Dear,” Arafinwë's wife sighed “it's been almost two years since Ingoldo and I ... nothing at all.”  
“Nothing at all?” Anairë questioned, her eyes wide. “In two years?”  
“Since the birth of Nerwen.” confessed the other.  
“Do not even ask me”, Nerdanel warned. “Since I left Fëanáro, I am closed. For a few months I kept hoping he would regain common sense...”  
“Which was impossible because he never had”, Írien said, with a pout.  
“Thanks, that's what I was going to say. The fact is that I thought he would come looking for me and ... or he did get himself a mistress, or he is too imbibed in his work to think about sex.”  
“More likely Fëanáro has an orgasm with each new project that occurs to him”, remarked the sister of the aforementioned.  
“Probably.”  
“So, just for a month without sex do you think Nolofinwë has an affair?” Nerdanel asked, returning to the main topic.  
“Well, it's that he ...” Anairë returned to blush like a teenager. “Arakáno is not very ... distant. Yes, he can spend days just sleeping next to me; but ... that is ... he is a man of strong passions.”  
“And he has a lot of work” Írien pointed out.  
“Lalwen, you are forbidden to comment”, Nerdanel silenced her. “We all know you kiss the floor where your brother walks.”  
“That does not prevent what I say is true. Arakáno has a lot of work, his ... and what a certain master craftsman should be doing.”  
“It is true. Ingoldo and I spent most of the year in Alqualondë, and my father-in-law ... well, my father-in-law spends more time juggling Fëanáro and Indis than attending official business. In Nolofinwë falls most of the work load.”  
“Maitimo helps him”, defended the redhead and then made a pout. “Or he causes him more problems.”  
“Surely! Nolvo spends half the time arbitrating disputes between Maitimo and Findekáno.”  
“Findekáno has the ability to get my son out of his mind.”  
“It will be his only ability”, raised an eyebrow Anairë. “Sometimes I wonder how, in the name of Varda, Arakáno thought that Finno could be of use to him in the Court.”  
“Hey! The boy has his qualities," protested Írien, who adored his nephew and was the one who spent most time in court. “He is very sociable and everyone likes him. Except parents of marriageable girls. His natural charm has avoided some conflicts.”  
“I did not know that those were qualities for a prince of the House of Finwë.”  
“Ask Maitimo: he knows it”, the Noldóran's daughter nodded, convinced.  
“Good! The fact is that I _still_ think that Arakáno has an affair”, Anairë exploded impatiently. “It does not matter how much work he have. A week ago, he gave me a set of necklace and earrings. _Very expensive_. We all know that men only give gifts like that when they feel guilt.”  
“Right”, Nerdanel accepted. “Fëanáro gave me the best gifts after each discussion.”  
“Aldamir always makes me beautiful gifts when he is about to leave for a long time” Írien admitted reluctantly.  
“Girls!” Eärwen exclaimed. “You make me rethink every gift that Ingo has given me. However, I believe that Nolofinwë could feel guilt; but not for having an affair.”  
“And then why?”, demanded Anairë.  
“For leaving you alone. For not attending to you as you deserve. Anairë, that elf adores you. And the fact that after your children are grown he continues coming to your bed, it only means that you are more fortunate than the rest of us. I mean, we all thought that Fëanáro was the impetuous and passionate, and Nerdanel left him almost ten years ago and you do not even hear a rumor that he has a lover ...”  
“Well, that's not exactly like that ...”  
“Please, Nerdanel, having sex with strangers does not count as a relationship and you already knew that your husband was influenced by the Kemendili before you married him.”  
“Arakáno also has a certain ... inclination to that ... sect.”  
“It is not a sect” Írien replied, “and Arakáno has no _inclination_. He has been called by the powers of the earth. And that happened when he was just a child, and you did not even know he existed, and thanks to that you have had a sexual life that many Noldorin women would envy.”  
“How is that?” Nerdanel frowned.  
“Do not make the clueless-one, Ner ... Of course you're clueless”, Írien sighed. “Fëanáro would never share those details of his life with you and your family belongs to the Valadur, the Aulëndili: you have never been in contact with Kemendili's beliefs. The point is that the laws of the Valar state that after a time of union, the carnal desires of the Eldar lose intensity. The Valadur follow that destiny and after fifty years of marriage, both spouses seek other aspects in which to occupy their mind and spirit; however the Kemendili do not. The call of the earth is too powerful in them and their... _needs_ do not decay. With force of will, Kemendili deny their nature and overcome the demands of their bodies and their spirits; but if it is not necessary, they ... enjoy them.”  
“So, that means Fëanáro has been having sex while I dedicate myself to make sculptures of him and then destroy them with hammer blows” Nerdanel commented, thoughtful.  
“Not necessarily. After all, Fëanáro was not called as Arakáno. Or like Findekáno.”  
“My son?!” Anairë exclaimed. “Why does anyone tell me anything about that?”  
“Because you're a follower of Nolmë, like Ingoldo. You would not understand or accept what being called by the power of earth implies. And I think that is what exasperates Maitimo of his cousin: Maitimo is also a follower of Nolmë.”  


For a few minutes, the women drank in silence, analyzing Írien's revelations. Finally, Anairë looked up from her glass.  


"You're only giving me the reason, Lalwen," she insisted. “Arakáno is sating those needs elsewhere.”  
“For Yavanna's petticoat, woman!” Írien snorted. “But do not you hear anything I say? Of course your husband has needs; but that does not mean that he is a stallion in time of heat and needs to vent himself in any hole he finds.”  
“I love when she talks like that”, Eärwen raised his eyebrows, amused. “It's like talking to a stonemason.”  
"You have no idea how a stonemason really speaks, Eärwen," Nerdanel pointed out. “Írien is being too smart.”  
“Whatever!” shouted the aforementioned and faced her sister-in-law with bright eyes. “That Arakáno is not having sex with you does not mean that he is being unfaithful to you. It only means that he has a lot of work, a crazy half-brother to deal with and a party of ungrateful nobles who believe they have the right to govern their princes. When he get organized, or if his so-called auxiliaries stop fighting like rabid dogs around him and become useful, he will have the opportunity to make you happy again. And if not, be content knowing that you enjoyed the passion longer than many of us. Now, deal those cards at once, Nerdanel. I'm going to end up drunk without getting a damn hand.”

**Findekáno and Maitimo**  


Maitimo looked up from the parchment spread before him. Findekáno was unusually quiet. Most of the time, the Fëanorion had to order him to stop humming the latest fashionable tune or making funny comments about everything he read in the reports. But today Findekáno reviewed the documents in absolute silence and took notes without looking up from his work.  
Maitimo let his eyes travel across the smooth forehead, the high cheekbones, the softly aquiline nose, the full curve of the lips, the angle of the firm jaw, the black braids with interwoven gold laces ... Findekáno was a true feast for the eyes ... For the senses, the elf corrected, recalling the aroma of those hair and that golden, sweaty skin. With an effort, he restrained the urge to smack his lips, evoking the taste of that mouth, the sweat on his chest and shoulders of his cousin, his virile essence ... Maitimo was not naive about sex; but the experience with Findekáno had left him trembling with ecstasy ... and dying for more.He could remember every detail of those hours: how it started as a game, a challenge from the youngest.

_"Oh, I have certainly kissed far fewer girls than you, dear half-cousin; but I'm sure they were much more satisfied, "said Findekáno with his usual impudence. Once again, Maitimo was surprised to see fascinated by the expression of open lightness of the young man: it was like seeing Nolofinwë wearing a libertine expression that he would never have.  
"How can you be so convinced?" He raised an eyebrow, ironically. "Did they tell you? In your place I would not believe everything a woman says when she is seducing a man. "  
"Well, the proof is that nobody looks for you a second time while I ..."  
"I decide who to see for second, or third, time, **little** Findekáno. And they go after you because you are an extremely easy prey." He enjoyed the flash of disgust that illuminated those silver-blue eyes when referring to his greater stature: although Findekáno had a respectable stature, barely reached the chin of the tall redhead. "Also, what is the importance of kissing when you have not got past that?"  
_

_"Why are you so sure I have not?" He crossed his arms over the broad chest of the youngest. Maitimo felt a sudden cramping in her belly: had he done it? With whom? Now, Findekáno was smiling, giving himself importance, as if he had read his thoughts.  
"Because you would already be proclaiming it in every corner of Tirion," he replied rudely.  
"Hardly. My father taught me that a gentleman kisses and does not tell", Findekáno smiled mysteriously.  
"It does not matter," the elder growled trying to recover his sharp humor. "We can never compare."  
"Oh, but you really want to compare. In other words, you doubt your skills as a lover," exclaimed Findekáno, triumphantly.  
"Of course not!", he defended himself, noting too late that he was falling into his cousin's game, to whom - by the way - he was almost fifty years older. Hell!, Findekáno had the gift to get him out of his boxes more easily than all his brothers together. "I can show you at any time that I am better than you. In everything." And now he felt like he was barely coming of age a year ago. Simply great.  
"All right. Let it be right now," the youngest decided quietly.  
"How? You will not think we'll call one of the maids to prove it, right? "  
"Do not be sluggish, Maitimo," he laughed with that laugh of his, so fresh and ... sensual. "Kiss me."  
_

_For a second, the older elf was motionless, thinking he heard a voice in his head. After a moment, he understood that Findekáno had really said what he had said. Upon perceiving his hesitation, Nolofinwë's son pouted and backed down.  
_

_"I understand if you do not dare," he offered, condescending. "I would think about it myself before kissing a male who does not even like me just to prove that **he** kisses better than me ..."  
_

_Maitimo did not let him end. With an agile movement, he caught Findekáno by the front of his light blue shirt and smashed his lips against his open mouth in the middle of the sentence. It was strange: teeth and lips crashing awkwardly. Forcing himself to ignore the unaccustomed of the situation, Maitimo proceeded to move his lips and tongue, searching the inside of Findekáno's mouth, playing sinuously until the other only let him do. An unexpected heat took Maitimo's stomach and flowed meandering to his crotch. With a stifled growl of disgust, he pulled away from his cousin ... and all the blood flowed to the least appropriate part of his anatomy when he saw the eyes darkened by the dilated pupils and the half-open mouth as if he expected more ... he asked for more. He backed away, hoping to get away from the temptation; but Findekáno's hand twitched in his loose hair, stopping him.  
_

_"Where are you going?" He demanded in a thick voice. "I have not tried my point yet."  
_

_And Findekáno descended on him like an eagle on his prey. The eldest son of Nolofinwë did not kiss only with his mouth; but his whole body took part in the caress and Maitimo found himself opening his lips, obediently, allowing that insidious tongue to slip inside and traverse his palate, his teeth, curl around his own tongue... For the first time, Maitimo understood what people wanted to say when he referred to the fact that Nolofinwë's son had been called by the powers of the earth, and his whole body responded to the demand of the absolute sensuality that cornered and enveloped him. Findekáno growled in his mouth and with agility, he passed a leg over his body to straddle him. Maitimo felt the warm weight of his cousin's muscular anatomy and lifted his hands up his sides in an avid caress. The other descended, pressing his hard sex against Maitimo's abdomen, resting slightly on his erection. **More**. Maitimo wanted to roar in the merciless invasion of his mouth; but Findekáno moved away with a sigh that shook his chest. He did not move away much, returning to lean his forehead on that of his older cousin.  
_

_"You win," suddenly surrendered Nolofinwe's son, licking his lips.  
"Sure?" The redhead wanted to provoke; but he only managed to get ahead in search of those panting lips. "Do not you want a second chance?"  
"Do you want me to kiss you again, Maitimo?" Findekáno challenged, going to meet the teeth that brushed his lower lip and tormented him with light strokes. The only possible answer was to kiss him, and that was Maitimo did, now his hands exploring shamelessly his cousin’s torso, undoing the ties of the vest to pull the shirt out of the pants and run through the fiery skin. He drew the hard muscles with his fingertips, letting the younger one move back and forth on his erection.  
_

_"Wait!" Maitimo yelled suddenly and put his fingers on Findekáno's hips to stop the ripples that had brought him to the edge of climax. They remained motionless, panting. Findekáno grabbed the coppery curls at the base of his neck and forced him to throw his head back to kiss him savagely. With the same fierceness he separated and ordered in a hoarse voice: "Undress yourself. Now. "  
_

_Maitimo swallowed hard, watching him get up and start undressing. Not for a second did it occur to him to protest._

_**This** Findekáno who ordered and dominated made his blood boil in a way that no female did ever. With trembling fingers, he undid his clothes, ignoring where he left them, attentive only to each new stretch of skin that his cousin discovered, reveling in the powerful erection that rose before him, claiming and attracting him in equal measure. Findekáno had golden skin, as if all those years in Alqualondë had been dedicated to swimming naked in the sea and Maitimo felt that he could devour life in that perfect body. Before he could recover from his shock, his cousin jumped on him like a predator, his greedy hands traveling the limbs and torso of Maitimo, sending spurts of desire to every nerve.  
_

_"Eru, yes," Findekáno gasped as he descended to plant lustful kisses on Maitimo's neck, chest, belly and back to the nipples. The oldest narrowed his eyes, opening his legs so that Findekáno would settle in between them and tangled the fingers of his right hand in the black waves while his left pressed the line of the column that arched at his touch. Torn moans erupted from his lips, overcoming his efforts to bite his lips to silence them. Oh damn! Someone could listen and come to see ... His cock trembled, ready ... almost ... But then Findekáno sat up to claim his mouth, pushing him until he lay on his back on the couch and covered him with his body. Had he been able to think, Maitimo would have been surprised that even though he was shorter in stature, Findekáno fit so perfectly into him. A unanimous moan erupted from their mouths as their rigid sexes touched. Maitimo held his breath at the magnificent vision of his cousin's beauty, caught up in lust. Findekáno began to move slowly, bending to kiss his cousin's red mouth while forcing him to encircle his waist with one leg. For a second, the elder was surprised at the ease with which Findekáno adapted to the situation and an idea crossed his mind. Jealousy twisted in his mind and chest like black snakes.  
_

_"Have you done this ... before?" He asked. Instead of answering, Findekáno licked his lips and buried his face in the curve between his neck and shoulder to nibble slightly. "Findekáno," demanded the Fëanárion, grabbing him by the hair and tugging at him with a hiss of pain. "I want to know if you've been with another male."  
_

_"Does it matter?" The youngest stammered with turbid eyes of passion. Maitimo wanted to slap him; but instead, he kissed him fiercely, determined to erase any memory of another lover in him. With an agile movement, he carried Findekáno against his chest to drop to the ground, on the soft carpet. Although it would not have mattered to him if the damned asshole banged his head for walk around fooling with anyone. Findekáno let out a little noise of surprise just before Maitimo descended by his torso with licks and bites that would mark the sand skin.  
_

_"Oh dear," the younger elf gasped instinctively as his cousin's tongue ran through his sex. Without thinking twice, Maitimo took all the exquisite length in his mouth, backing up naturally when the tip touched the back of his throat. He had never done this; but he could learn. Findekáno would not want another male in his life again. Findekáno's hands roamed Maitimo's shoulders, his hair, the carpet ... seeking to be caught in the tide of pleasure and madness that surpassed him.  
_

_"Eru's balls," he roared, unable to control the need to trust into that mouth. "I cannot ... Mai ... Maitimo, no ... I'm going to ... Fuck!" With a broken scream, he exploded into powerful shots in the avid mouth of the other. Maitimo stepped back just enough to not drown himself with the fluids that filled his mouth and helped with his hand to finish taking Findekáno to that point beyond reality. While Findekáno still shuddered in the remnants of orgasm, Maitimo lay down beside him, swallowing in silence, trying to find his voice and his confidence to say something light. Before he could recover, Findekáno turned to him and kissed him passionately, tasting himself in Maitimo’s mouth.  
_

_"Mhm," he purred, provocatively. "You taste like me, cousin. Come here. Let me return the favor. "  
_

_With a malicious twinkle in his eyes, Findekáno took Maitimo's hand and licked it until it was wet; then he guided him between his thighs and moistened the entire area. Very slowly, without abandoning the expectant and hungry eyes of the older, forced him to slide the hard cock between his thighs, and began to move slowly, squeezing his legs to take him in his warmth, kissing the line of the jaw and exposed neck. Maitimo lost himself in the rhythm, in the hot warmth that pressed against his chest and lit colored lights behind his eyes. Findekáno moaned as Maitimo's long fingers embedded themselves in his buttocks, pushing him against the increasingly ferocious thrusts.  
_

_"Yes!" He exclaimed ecstatically. "Oh dear, Maitimo, I want ... I want to be inside you ... and have you inside me ... again and again ... like that, beauty ... Ah, harder ... When you're inside me I want you to fuck me hard, so hard that you make me scream, plead ... and you will not stop until you come inside me, filling me ... yes, like that! More! Harder, my love! "  
_

_Findekano's groans and pleas unleashed Maitimo completely, who succumbed to ecstasy in a few thrusts, moaning his cousin's name as the world melted and regrown itself, over and over again._

Maitimo moved in his chair, trying to accommodate the erection that accompanied memories. Two days had passed since that time, two days when Maitimo had to accompany his mother to a family dinner at his grandfather's house, two days when they had not seen each other ... and today Findekáno had not even given him one of his mocking smiles. A fear settled in the chest of the firstborn of Fëanáro: would Findekáno regret what happened? After the madness - when they had to dress in a hurry to not be surprised and every opportunity to speak vanished when a servant came in announcing that the king was waiting for them to dinner - Findekáno surely had occasion to think about what they did and with all certainty, he regretted. After all, everyone knew the state of relations between the parents of both and it almost seemed a miracle that Fëanáro had agreed to have his eldest son work near his half-brother (other than to prove that his son was better than his half-brother). However, so far the disputes between both cousins had been just ... well, the prelude to that sexual game that had made them irrational in a matter of seconds. Maitimo had discovered the real reason for his inability to tolerate Findekáno's childishness at the moment he came between his thighs, and in those two days, he thought of nothing else but to see him again, to push him against a wall and kiss him until Findekáno panted his name begging to take him. But it seemed that Findekáno did not share his enthusiasm. Maybe it did not matter to him. Maybe he used to do it with anyone and just was ... one more adventure. Maitimo cursed himself inwardly. He could not keep thinking in his head or he would go crazy. He needed to know. Now!  


“Let's eat something”, he proposed raising his voice and leaving the pen, which he had not used for almost an hour. “Missing enough for dinner and the time for the second meal has almost passed.”  
“I'm not hungry”, replied Findekáno, his voice muffled by the open books in front of him. “Seriously?” The elder opened his eyes a lot. “You are always hungry.”  
“Not today. Go if you want. I will stay here working.”  
“All right.” Maitimo nodded, standing up and walking to the door. When he reached the front, he turned around again and said: “Are you sure you do not want me to bring you something?” “No thanks. I'll be fine.” replied the Nolofinwion without moving. Maitimo felt the urge to jump on him and hit him until he could lift his head from those damn documents. With a hiss of exasperation, he turned to open the door; but he closed it again with violence and in two strides he returned with his cousin.  
"Will you stop doing the asshole?"  


Findekáno looked at him, confused, when Maitimo's hand clung to his clothes by the shoulder and forced him to look up.  


“Maitimo ...? What…?”  
“Why cannot you just face me and tell me it was nothing? That did mean nothing to you? That do you tend to fuck with every male or female that crosses your path without even thinking if there will be a later? Why cannot you act like an adult and tell me it's that way you are? A damn Kemendil and all his crap of sensualism?”  
“It was not so!” Findekáno jumped, getting up to face him as best he could and understanding that even so Maitimo overcame him, he growled furiously. “Damn, Nelyafinwë! I cannot argue with you if I have to break my neck to face you.”  
“Oh, should I feel guilt for being taller than you? The height did not seem to worry the other day while we were on top of each other on the floor.”  
“You did not seem to mind my lack of maturity either.” He returned, angry, kicking the chair so as not to hit the imbecile in front of him. “And I do not go sleeping with anyone who crosses my path. And yes, I have ... certain beliefs different from yours; but they are not a crime and they do not harm anyone ...”  
“Except for those who think they mean something to you and instead, they are thrown aside.” 

“I did not throw you aside. And you do mean something to me.”  
“So even if it's not a crime, of course there's something wrong with ... What did you say?” He asked, interrupting his speech to look at Findekáno with wide eyes.  
“That I do care, idiot! I have been in love with you since I was a child!” shouted the younger elf without stopping to think.  
“Ah good”, murmured Maitimo, blushing until matching the tone of his hair. “That's ... well, I did not expect that and it's ...”  
“Embarrassing” concluded Findekáno instead. “Great. Now it's me who’s making a fool of me. I knew this was going to happen.”  
“What?”  
“This! You, looking at me as if I was some kind of fair phenomenon.” He released an impatient snort. “You really are slow for some things, Maitimo. Until recently I thought you had realized years ago. After all, I looked like a little dog chasing you all over Tirion, clinging to your heels even though your father looked at me like I was a fly and your brothers made fun of me.” He made an exaggerated pout. “And they were pretty cruel, by the way.”  
“I am sorry. For my brothers, I mean. Sometimes I would like to be an only child, believe me.” He hesitated, looking from one side to the other, uncomfortable. “I had no idea. I thought it was just a boy's admiration and ... well, I did not expect you to look at me that way. You're ... you're really beautiful and you have all those girls around you like butterflies around a rose ...” “And ... you just compared me to a rose. As if it was not quite embarrassing.”  
“That's not what I meant, Findekáno!” he barked, impatient. “I'm trying to tell you that I like you, that I'm also in love with you and that I thought you had used me to have a good time; But now that you've made it clear that it's not like that, I'd like us to continue with this. Wherever it takes.”  


Findekáno watched him, motionless. Maitimo felt the warmth in his cheeks and the apprehension in his stomach.  


“Very well”, shrugged the youngest, carefree. The other contemplated him, incredulous.  
“Only that you will say?” he asked.  
“You already said everything. I do not think your father will be very happy if he finds out.” “ **When** he finds out.” Maitimo rectified. “I'm not going to run around the corners to see you.” Findekáno smiled, amused.  
“It never crossed my mind that you did it. Besides, it would be quite a feat to hide your moans when you are in the middle of ...”  
“ You are ... insufferable”, the redhead hissed and grabbed him by the hair, pulled him to kiss him passionately.  
“Very well”, Nolofinwë’s son gasped when they separated to breathe. “I think that eating something was left for another time.”  
“Do not you care what your father thinks about it?” Maitimo questioned, tracing his cousin's full lips with his tongue.  
“At this point, my father would not be surprised at anything that involves me. And he is more liberal than Fëanáro. After all, he was called by the powers of the earth.” A shudder ran through him as he added lower: “And he has not had any trouble to answer that call.  
“What do you mean?” the older elf was disconcerted, going back just enough to look at the shadowed features of Findekáno.  
“Don't tell me you have not heard the rumors.”  
“What ... rumors?” asked Maitimo again, cautiously.  
“That my father has a lover.  
“A ..."  
“A lover, Maitimo. Male. Like you and me. I think it's Ingwë's grandson."  
“Oh.” 

Maitimo did not find what else to say. In fact, he had heard rumors referring to the intimacy between Nolofinwë and the grandson of the Supreme King of the Elves; but from there to believe them ... Well, it did not seem that Nolofinwë felt any inclination towards his same sex and much less towards the vanyarin beauty. It is true that Prince Laurefindë was a true vision, with those curls as golden as Laurelin's light and those eyes like living turquoises; however, Nolofinwë was one to control his passions. It was enough to witness how he dominated himself in front of his half-brother, ignoring the rudeness and insults with a coldness that would have caused envy to Helcaraxë, if it had feelings. Ingwë had sent his grandson to the court in which his niece reigned for the young elf to learn from the Noldorin craftsmen and Finwë's political ability. The Noldóran, on the other hand, had placed the boy under the tutelage of his second son. It was common to see the two elves together in the Council, or out riding, or simply, having lunch in the gardens. To Maitimo it was clear that the prince of the Vanyar was fascinated by the tall and handsome noldo; but he doubted that his uncle would take him as anything more than an impressionable adolescent.  


“I do not think that's true”, he declared after a moment.  
“No?” challenged Findekáno, sarcastic.  
“I do not think your father will pay attention to a boy's crush.”  
“Like you?  
“You're not a kid, and your father is much wiser than me. He would know how to handle the situation without hurting the boy. Yes, I think Laurefindë is ... well, he's obviously impressed by Nolofinwë; but there is nothing else there. Your father is not like that.  
“I remind you that my father, in spite of all his diplomacy and his political ability, is a Kemendil too. More convinced than me then, while I was already called near my majority; my father barely raised one foot from the ground when he was claimed by the powers of the earth. Do not tell me he's not like that. If it were not because they take precautions, at this point, my family would double yours. And I know for a fact that my father celebrates the ancient rites ...”  
“Also my father. That does not mean that you have a stable relationship. What do you mean by "for a fact"? Have you participated in those parties?”  
“I will not discuss that with you today, _Russandol_. What matters is that my father is that way. I would not be surprised if he had an affair with Laurefindë.”  
“And I do not think he did it. That would only hurt the boy when everything was over. My father probably would not worry about anyone else's feelings; but Nolofinwë would.” Findekáno sighed, defeated, admitting his cousin's reasoning.  
“That does not mean he does not have an adult lover, mature and capable of taking the consequences.”  
“Why can he just not have a lover?”  
“Because I know him.”  
“And could not I be a female lover?”  
“That would be very risky. Any female would insist on having a son of one of the Great Princes of Tirion. N-no, I'm sure it's a male.”  
“Very good. You should talk to him directly. Maybe they're just rumors, after all. How did you call me a moment ago?”  
“Russandol. I always called you like that.”  
"Nobody has called me that way since you went to Alqualondë," smiled Maitimo, provocatively, approaching to enclose him in his arms and kiss him gently on his lips and cheeks. “I like to hear it in your voice.”  
“You will listen to many more things in my voice ... _Russandol_.” Findekáno raised his eyebrows, answering the kisses while grabbing his cousin by the hips to push the hard sex against his body. Maitimo let out a moan of anticipation.

**Finwë and Indis**  


The queen took a sip of the tea and set the cup back on the glass saucer. With two fingers, she took one of the sweets filled with honey and brought it to his mouth. Too sweet, she opined in her mind. After so many years, she still did not get used to the Noldorin tastes. These Noldor had to do everything in excess.  


“I guess you've heard the rumors” she said suddenly, without looking up in the direction of her husband.  


Finwë shifted in his seat and took a long swig of milk before saying, innocently:  


“What rumors, dear dove?”  
“Those referring to your son.”  


The king searched in his mind what was the last thing they said in the Court about Curufinwë. Did Indis talk about the discussion with Alcalimon? Or about his complete rejection of Macalaurë's engagement to Tyelpelindë? Or about the debate in the last session of the Council, where only the equanimity of Nolofinwë prevented a pitched battle?  


“Exactly ...”  
“That he has an affair.”  


Finwë bit into the toast with cheese. Of course: when it came to fouls, Nolofinwë was only **his son**. Luckily, it did not happen often.  


“There are always those rumors when it comes to a handsome, charismatic noble-elf and ... in the fullness of his strength.”  
“It sounds to me like you're justifying him, Finwë”, Indis declared, narrowing her blue eyes.  
“I'm not doing it because there's nothing to justify. They are just that: rumors.”  
“Seriously? And, why has **your son** been sleeping in another room for more than a month?”  


The High King of the Noldor finished eating the toast and took a sip of milk. So long? He really was going to have to learn more about the intimate life of Nolofinwë.  


“I thought that would make you happy”, he commented lightly. “After all, it never seemed right to you that the carnal needs of Nolofinwë would last so long, even after the children's years were over. If our son has finally given up that part of him, you should be happy, little dove.”  
“I never wanted Arakáno to give up anything.” Indis hissed, leaning forward. “It is true that I did not like that **my son** was claimed by that ... Avari’s barbarous cult; but I did not refuse to let it happen either. Also, it seems to me little compensation that my son unloads his tensions through carnal exchange when he spends all day enduring and alleviating the nonsense of his half-brother, something that you are not able to see or control. But!” she added cutting the king when he opened his mouth to reply. “But I do not want my son, the Grand Prince of the Noldor, to be on everyone's tongues for a weakness with my blond cousin. Laurefindë can be very beautiful; but, it is not up to the circumstances and will end up making a disaster when Arakáno gets bored of him. And Arakáno is so wonderfully sentimental that he will spend the rest of eternity tied to a relationship he does not want just for not to break the boy's heart. So, Finwë Noldóran, talk to your son, male to male, and make it clear that this romance must end. And if it does not exist, then it must remain so. For the good of everyone.” She stood up to a surprised Finwë, who would never get used to the genius of his lovely wife. “Oh! And, tell him not to give Anairë such expensive gifts: we women suspect when you are so generous.”

**The Fëanárion**  


“Well, I think it's a lie”, Atarinkë grumbled contemptuously. “I do not think he have what it takes to dominate another male.”  
“And that's where you're wrong.” Macalaurë pointed out patiently. “Sometimes appearances can be deceiving. I think that, on the contrary, Nolofinwë has the necessary will to be the dominant part in a homosexual relationship.”  
“Really, Macalaurë?” Tyelkormo scoffed, grabbing the bread basket that a twin passed him. “You've seen him in court, as he tilts his head and retires every time Father confronts him, right?”  
“That is only weakness or cowardice” Atarinkë said.  


Macalaurë let out the air, tired of arguing with his younger brothers.  
“You are a fool if you think that Nolofinwë is weak or cowardly, Atarinkë”, Carnistir intervened, without looking up from his plate.  
“What did you say?” snapped the fifth son.  
“That you're a fool. Nolofinwë has cheated you like everyone else. Do not you realize that every time he retires or gives in to our father, people see him as a poor and noble creature abused by his half-brother? Nolofinwë is a manipulator. If he chooses to make his lover believe that he is the boss in the relationship, he will do it.”  
“Which I do not think is the case because we're talking about Laurefindë”, said Macalaurë.  
“The vanyarin boy with beautiful hair?” inquired one of the twins. “He is beautiful.”  
“And he looks like a girl”.  
“A girl with superb shoulders.”  
“And very agile.”  
“It looks something like Findaráto.”  
“You two have been watching him a lot”, Tyelkormo growled, squinting.  
“Our uncle takes him to the market and to hunt when they have free time.”  
“He teaches him the customs of our people.”  
“And the differences between Noldorin beliefs.”  
“As all Vanyar are Valadur, the boy does not know much about Nolmë or the Kemendili.”  
“Nolofinwë explains him the differences.”  
“And by the way, we learn.”  
“Although we never get close enough.”  
“Hells!” exclaimed Tyelkormo. Yes, he is his lover.”  
“How did you come to that conclusion?”, Atarinkë opened his eyes.  
“He's explaining how the earth’s call works!”  
“So?”  


Macalaurë shook his head before staring at Carnistir, who was watching his two closest brothers with black brows. As Carnistir had been the only one of Fëanáro's sons to be summoned by the powers of the earth, the conversation between Tyelkormo and Atarinkë was enough to get him out of his way. With an impatient grunt, he stood up, pushing the chair, and left the table at the same moment his father entered the dining room.  


“What's wrong with Moryo?”, Fëanáro questioned, serving himself the bread that his second son would offer him.  
“He preferred to leave before breaking a dish on Turco's head.” replied a twin.  
“Or Curvo’s head”, said the other.  
“Hey! We did not say anything that angered him.” The blonde one defended himself. “We were just talking about Nolofinwë.”  
“And why would that bother Moryo?” the craftsman frowned, standing in his seat.  


An awkward silence followed his question. Finally, Macalaurë cleared his throat.  


“It was not that, but the way they referred to the beliefs of the kemendili and their practices.”  
“I see.” Fëanáro nodded and immediately turned to his two sons. “If you do not know about the topic, it would be better for you not to comment. Much less say something that offends the beliefs of your brother.”  
“We did not intend such thing”, frowned Atarinkë. “And I still do not understand what the Kemendili have to do with the fact that Nolofinwë has a lover.”  


Fëanáro's hands stopped for a second as he cut the flesh.  


“Everyone knows that Nolofinwë is a Kemendil”, intervened one of the twins, cautious.  
“One of the ... most powerful druids.” pointed out the other.  
“And many consider that Kemendili's philosophy is based on sensualism rather than on spirituality.”  
“A Kemendil balances both aspects of the elven life”, interjected Fëanáro, impatiently. “And, can you tell me why we care about the fact that Nolofinwë has a mistress?”  
“Eh ... nothing. We do not care at all”, Tyelkormo quickly denied. “We were just discussing the rumors.”  
“A male lover” Atarinkë specified and this time, his father's gaze fixed on him until he looked down. “Rumors say he has a male lover” he explained quietly.  
“And who is that lover?”  
“Laurefindë, the grandson of King Ingwë.”  


Fëanáro squeezed the cutlery imperceptibly, as if trying to remember the elf in question.  
“I see,” he finally said. “I do not want to hear more about the subject. We are not women to echo the rumors of the Court. And definitely, we are not interested in the life of Nolofinwë.”

**Spirit of Fire**  


Nolofinwë Finwion stopped in front of the window and drank slowly from his glass, listening to the report the other elf read to him. Dressed in his usual blue and silver tones, the Second Grand Prince of Tirion was the epitome of elegance. Silver and aquamarine brooches collected the blackest hair behind the ears, while two pins held the ponytail bent at the top of the head so that the rest of the abundant mane fell smoothly down the back until it almost touched the wide belt embossed in silver. The tunic open at the front showed tight-fitting cobalt trousers and knee-high boots with soft black leather. An aquamarine earring adorned his left ear while on the right he wore only a simple silver ring.  


Laurefindë read in a calm voice, trying his best to be sure of himself in the presence of the Grand Prince. Ever since he met Nolofinwë Finwion in Valmar, the “city with many bells”, he had dreamed of being close to him. When his grandfather announced that he would travel to Tirion to learn from the Noldor, the young elf would have been able to dance with enthusiasm and his joy came to a head when later the Noldóran said that Nolofinwë would be his tutor. Laurefindë was delighted by the elegance and beauty of the prince, by the force that hid his polite manners, by the sensuality that every calculated gesture seemed to repress. It is true that Nolofinwë treated him like a very nice and good child… and nothing else; but the young did not lose hope that one day the noldorin prince would look at him and see his true self. Among the Vanyar it was not common for elves of the same sex to take pleasure in carnal pleasures, even in early youth; however, Laurefindë always knew that he was attracted to males. And when he saw Nolofinwë in his grandsire's court, he knew exactly what male he was attracted to.  
He had listened to the comments that Prince Nolofinwë was one of the Kemendili. He knew nothing of that philosophy, since the Vanyar were all practitioners of the Valar cult. Nolofinwë had explained to him some of the aspects of religion; but Laurefindë suspected that the best details were kept. Some said that the prince participated actively in the ceremonies that the Kemendili celebrated in Telperion’s hours, in the caves outside Tirion, where the light of the Trees hardly reached. Laurefindë would give half of his blood for witnessing one of those feasts, for seeing Nolofinwë free from the bonds of court ethics and morality, given over to the sensuality of ancient rituals.  


The young elf read in a monotonous voice, lost in his daydreams, when the door of the cabinet opened violently. Nolofinwë turned on his heels and Laurefindë turned in his chair to face the newcomer.  
Prince Curufinwë Fëanáro remained on the threshold, straighter and more proud than ever. From his tall stature - though less than that of his half-brother - he looked arrogantly at the vanya.  


“Brother Curufinwë” greeted Nolofinwë, with a nod. “Be welcome.”  
“Fire your secretary” Fëanáro ordered, pretending to ignore the lineage of Laurefindë.  
“This young elf is the grandson of the Supreme King Ingwë, brother mine. He is spending time with us to learn about our customs...”  
“Save the explanations”, Fëanáro cut him, rudely and turned to the vanyarin elf. “My respects to you and your family, tar-Laurefindë. Now, leave me alone with my half-brother. We have family matters to deal with.”  


Laurefindë stood up and managed to bow before leaving the report on the desk and leaving in a hurry.  


During the exchange, Nolofinwë did not move, accustomed to the outbursts of his half-brother. When Laurefindë left, Finwë's second son went to the credence and poured a cup for his brother. The moment he turned to deliver the wine, he found Fëanáro two steps away, studying him with eyes full of anger.  


“What happen…?”  
“Are you bedding him?”, Fëanáro demanded under his breath.  
“Sorry?”, raised the straight eyebrows Nolofinwë.  
“That damned vanyarin prince, Nolofinwë. You're fucking him, right? Are you teaching him Kemendili’s cult intimacies?”  
“I have no idea ...”  
“Stop doing the asshole with me, Nolofinwë!”, broke the older, grabbing him by the neck. “Is it or is not your lover that damn vanyarin kid?”  
“Why would you care about such a thing?”, it was the innocent response of the youngest, who did not release the glasses at any time; his exquisite blue eyes wide open, mimicking the naive expression of when he was a child.  


Fëanáro gritted his teeth, as if restraining himself from hitting him. Why did he care about such a thing? Why did he care? Why?!  
Instead of answering ... or hitting him, Fëanáro assaulted Nolofinwë's mouth in a savage kiss that made the other moan with surprise and pain. With tongue and teeth, the eldest invaded the warm cavity, exploring, pressing, possessing ... just as he had done with his body a few weeks before during the festivities of the Blossoming. And he still asked him why he cared? What mattered was that no one else could touch the male that belonged to him.  


“The wine”, Nolofinwë mused when he managed to throw his head back to breathe raggedly.  
“Fuck the wine!” Fëanáro growled, biting his neck while opening the front of the tunic. “Do you think I came to drink?”  
“N-no ... I think you came to shout at me for something I do not understand; but that's ... ah, Curufinwë, that will leave a mark!”, Nolofinwë complained to feel the other suck in the arch between his neck and shoulder.  
“We'll see if you want that damn vanyarin see it”, the other laughed, showing his teeth like a wolf.  
“Who does not need to see it is Anairë”, the youngest reminded him and at last, he dropped the two glasses to the carpet to cling to the body of his half-brother when he untied the belt.  


A triumphant smile curled Fëanáro's sensual lips as he struggled with the clasps of his brother's elegant court clothes. Nolofinwë missed a moment in the impetuosity of the caresses; but when impatience was with Fëanáro - and the first brooch jumped, shattered - he protested with a murmur, and grabbed him by the sides of his face to kiss him sinuously. All thoughts vanished from the head of Míriel's son. His existence focused on the tongue that moved and retreated, drawing spirals inside his mouth, licking his lips, crossing the palate ... His hands were petrified in the clothes, twitching, while his sex responded to the slow invasion. Nolofinwë did that with him: since he was a damn child, he disarmed him with that softness. Fëanáro knew that there was nothing weak or effeminate in him - now he knew it too well - but always that way of looking at him as if he were asking "why" he had made the blood of the elder boil: first, impatiently; then, with fury and, finally, with lust. _The power of the earth_. The ancient powers of the earth connected to the first Eldar in the starlight of Cuiviénen. Those who said that Nolofinwë was one of the most powerful druids among the Kemendili, had no damn idea what they were saying ... because Nolofinwë Finwion had all the power of the wild sensuality of the virgin land, unrestricted by valarin laws. Fëanáro had not been called by the powers of the earth, although his mother had been one of the most important priestesses; however, he had been called by the power of Nolofinwë. For years, he had attended the rituals, taking part of them; but as another assistant, like the dozens of Noldor who let themselves be carried away by an energy that slept in all of them, in one way or another. In the last Festival, instead...

_Fëanáro looked at the blue and gray silhouette of his half-brother, intrigued. For the first time in years since the debates in the Council began, Nolofinwë had lost his temper. When he had started an ironic comment, the son of Indis interrupted him with a hiss of anger and with a metallic voice said:  
_

_"If you have nothing useful to contribute to the discussion, you better excuse us from your sarcasm, Brother Curufinwë."  
_

_For a second, the crowd was silent, waiting for the Crown Prince to jump on the table to strike his half-brother; but Fëanáro was so bewildered that he only observed Nolofinwë, noticing for the first time the way he closed and stretched the fingers of his right hand when something displeased him, how he played with the silver and obsidian ring on the left ring finger, spinning it with the thumb, how he pressed his lips imperceptibly when one of the Valadur spoke, repeating the laws like a seguidilla ...  
_

_"We all know the laws of the Valar, tar-Taerëndur," Nolofinwë now interrupted one of the chief lords among the followers of the Valar. "Save us the proselytism and move on to what matters: do you vote for or against the decree?"  
_

_If Fëanáro had not really been enjoying the faces of Taerëndur's acolytes, he would probably have questioned what the hell was happening to his always-controlled half-brother. At last, the Council session came to an end and Nolofinwë was the first to leave the room, ignoring even his own followers to call his eldest son by his side as he hurried to the wing of the palace he occupied. Impulsively, Fëanáro followed him, thinking to play the role of offended prince and son worried about the consequences that the inappropriate behavior of Nolofinwë could bring to Finwë. He reached his half-brother in the middle of the corridor, when he dismissed Findekáno with instructions that he did not hear. At that moment, Nolofinwë noticed his presence and again hissed impatiently.  
_

_"Today I do not have time, Curufinwë", he held him back before Fëanáro spoke. "Tomorrow I'll play with you to insult me as much as you want ... I'll even let you slap me to make up for it; but not today. Really. Good light and fertile years, Curufinwë." And he left, crossing with Finwë who came from his rooms at that moment. Nolofinwë paused just enough to bow and murmur a blessing to his father before disappearing in his path with strong, agitated steps.  
_

_"What's the matter with him?" Fëanáro asked when his father embraced him. "Did he lose his head? You should have seen how he behaved in the Council, father." In a moment, he told his father everything that happened in the session; however, instead of worrying, Finwë smiled and patted his firstborn on the shoulder, confidential.  
"Excuse your brother, Curvo. Today is the Festival of Blossoming, when the earth sings to fertility, and Nolvo is a bit tense. " He gave him a knowing wink. "The call of the earth, you know ..."  
_

_Finwë's words did not leave Fëanáro's mind for the rest of the day. The call of the earth, he said. So that Nolofinwë - the stretched and political Nolofinwë, the frigid prince, the exemplary husband, the model father, the submissive son, the ... perfect diplomat - was under the influence of the powers of the earth. At that moment, Fëanáro remembered what had so many years ago angered Indis, the Vanya: her son, her three-year-old son, had been called. Fëanáro never knew how exactly his father had discovered him; after all, how on Eru’s name did the earth call a child who was just beginning to explore the world on his own? Moryo had been reclaimed in his majority of age and, as he heard, Findekáno shortly after the beginning of adolescence. He could understand those calls; but not in a creature. He remembered the wrath of his father's second wife when Kemendili's representatives showed up at the palace, asking to be allowed to see the prince, how Indis would shout that none of those perverts would touch his son ... at least until he was old enough to decide for himself. Finwë had reassured her, assuring her that no Kemendil would dare to harm a child in that way, that it was best for Nolofinwë for the priestesses to examine him and perform the simplest rituals in him, to numb the power of the earth until it was time. And indeed, as soon as Nolofinwë entered puberty, Fëanáro heard the rumors of his adherence to the old cult; stories of a primitive ceremony in which the adolescent was linked to the earth forever, as a servant ... and as a lover. Fëanáro tried to fit the rumors into the stories that were kept of the Lands of Awakening; but the Kemendili kept the details of their cult for themselves and as a mere spectator, the king's eldest son had no access to these secret rituals. And the Nolofinwë he knew still did not fit in those tales of wild voluptuousness. Or perhaps he did not really know Nolofinwë?  
_

_Driven by curiosity, Fëanáro rode shortly before the Mingling of Lights until he reached the outskirts of Tirion, to the caves where the Kemendili would meet to honor the earth with their bodies and their spirits. The moment came when the Lights of the Trees mingled; but as the caves - located on the slopes of Calacirian facing north - turned their backs on the direction of Ezellohar, the light did not reach their vast caverns. Fëanáro arrived in time to see the males leaving the caves - the naked torsos covered with blue and black drawings, the hair braided with feathers, the leather bracers clutching the arms - and in front of them, he saw Nolofinwë. A Nolofinwë that, indeed, he did not know. And his half-brother smiled at him and for the first time, spoke to him with his mind: "Hunt with me," he said, and Fëanáro found himself stripping off his tunic, following the group to the top of the mountains. For hours - while Laurelin lit up Aman - they followed the trail of the most powerful beasts, with no weapons other than obsidian knives and bare hands, and Fëanáro felt that the archaic magic of the hunt seeped into his blood, his soul. When the lights mixed again, the hunt was over and the elves returned with their prey, not to eat them; but to offer them to the Mother Earth, and there Fëanáro saw the females receive the still bleeding skins, the still throbbing hearts, from the hands of the hunters. Bonfires were lit and the music began, dragging in its dizzying cadence the bodies and instincts. Fëanáro felt the call of the earth in himself, the primitive and bestial desire to rise up to erase everything: he had experienced it before, in other festivities; but today... **today**.  
_

_His eyes searched until they found his prey. The whole day they had run together, side by side, and now ... Through the fire, Nolofinwë smiled, his eyes delineated with a blue stripe, his torso and his lips stained with blood, and turned on his heels to enter the cavern. Fëanáro pursued him with an elastic and furtive step. He could smell it. He could smell his scent of male and sex, and desire made his cock throb almost painfully. He reached the last cavern, the deepest one, where shiny skins and hundreds of gems made offerings to the earth around a stone altar. He felt the smell of Nolofinwë; but he couldn’t see him. Then, muscular arms surrounded him from behind and he felt the heat of a naked body against his own. Nolofinwë's mouth caressed his neck, the breath warmed his skin.  
_

_"Brother Curufinwë, be welcome to honor the Goddess," he murmured in his ear as he untied the loops of his breeches and released Fëanáro's erection. Míriel's son tried to turn around; but the firm arms kept him in position while the elegant fingers of Nolofinwë surrounded his sex and caressed him almost roughly, taking him in a short time to the climax. The ecstasy hit Fëanáro with such force that his knees buckled and Nolofinwë held him as he ejaculated in powerful jets. With cloudy vision he saw his sperm fall to the damp earth in front of the altar and be quickly absorbed. Immediately, Nolofinwë moved to kneel in front of him and kiss him slowly in the mouth. There were no more words between them. Naked, their bodies searching, blood, sweat and semen anointing them like sacred oils, hours of wild sex, Nolofinwë on his knees welcoming his brother amid gasps of ecstasy and pain, Fëanáro astride his lap impaling himself on the delirious rhythm of the drums ... and more, always begging more, demanding more.  
_

_Afterwards, they had cleaned themselves in the cold waters of an underground spring and Fëanáro left without looking back, catching a glimpse of Nolofinwë's mocking smile._

Nolofinwë took off his clothes with skill, without leaving his half-brother’s mouth, until he was only wearing tight pants, which allowed him to appreciate the magnificent erection. Greedy, Fëanáro extended a hand in search of hardness to caress it roughly as he demanded against the skin beneath Nolofinwë's ear:  


“Undress me. I want to feel everything.”  
“Let me close the door” raised one eyebrow the younger. “I doubt you want to be interrupted in the middle of ... our family talk.”  
“If it is your vanyarin, I have no problem in being seen”, said Fëanáro, picking up one of the glasses to serve himself wine while the other passed the key to the door. “So he finds out how a male fucks.”  
“You would have thought before sending him to fly” shrugged Nolofinwë, hugging him from behind to remove the cup and empty it before dropping it again.  


Fëanáro shuddered with the memory of the previous occasion. Before he could turn in the embrace, Nolofinwë began to let go of the ties of his tunic slowly. He undressed him with the skill of a servant and a tenderness of which the prince never felt himself the object. For a second, the tears trembled behind Fëanáro's eyelids: _Nolofinwë loved him_. Understanding made his heart beat wildly. It was not just sex. It was not the powers of Mother Earth claiming her dominion in the blood of Nolofinwë. Fëanáro understood then the magnitude of a love that flouted laws, powers, gods ... to give, without demanding, without expecting anything in return.  


Nolofinwë's hands roamed the body of his half-brother, loving him with every touch, his fingers tracing the muscles, angles and curves in an act of absolute veneration. When Fëanáro was free of the last piece of clothing, he knelt on his knees before him and gently, took the erect sex to caress it slowly, and finally, lick it from the base to the tip, tasting the first drops of fluid, before taking it up his throat, as deep as he could, over and over again.  


The Crown Prince buried his hands in his half-brother’s hair, without pushing, without pulling, just looking for support while Nolofinwë’s tongue ran through his member, pressed, wrapped the tip, locked against the palate ... Nolofinwë moaned from the depths of his throat and the echo traveled all over Fëanáro's phallus and from there to his body, to every nerve ... until it exploded in his own voice. He looked down to find the beautiful eyes of blue silver and with that image, the pleasure was unleashed, filling the mouth of the youngest.  


Fëanáro collapsed next to him, unable to hold on to his trembling legs. For a moment, he only rested his forehead against his half-brother’s shoulder. Finally, he threw back his head and faced the pupils dilated with desire of the other. Hunger resurged in him with violence. He assaulted Nolofinwë's mouth, getting an equally fierce response.  


“Take me”, ordered separating just enough to bite the lower lip of Nolofinwë. “I want to feel you inside of me. All of you.”  


Nolofinwë gasped at the request. The other time, Fëanáro had been in charge, refusing to submit even to the fever of passion; but, now ... The words of his older brother were an order, yes; but they were also a plea ... and Nolofinwë knew it.  


Gently, the younger prince forced the other to lie on his back on the fluffy carpet to go through the exquisite anatomy again with fingers, palms, lips, tongue and teeth. Fëanáro moaned softly, biting his lips in a residue of pride; nevertheless, when Nolofinwë separated his thighs and descended among them, licking his entrance almost tenderly, he was no longer able to restrain the sounds that betrayed his delight.  


Nolofinwë lost track of time while preparing his brother; first with more and more daring licks and then with the fingers going in and out, pulsating intermittently the point of nerves that sent raptures of ecstasy to each terminal of Fëanáro’s body. When he finally straightened, his back was tense and his sex trembled impatiently. He settled between Fëanáro's thighs and held onto one arm over his shoulder while with the other hand he guided the rigid cock into his body. The ardent narrowness that greeted him made all his muscles shudder. He forced himself to remain motionless until he was able to control the urge to ejaculate. Fëanáro was not much help, moaning and cursing as he moved impatiently to take more possession.  


“Curufinwë!” warned the young and Fëanáro smiled defiantly, hugging his waist with his legs and plunging his fingers into his strong arms to draw red furrows.  
“Cannot you stand ... little brother? Do you want to cum now? Is it that the vanyarin does not fuck you well?”  
“Maybe he doesn't yell as deliciously as you ... big brother”, replied Nolofinwë, descending to kiss him playfully and nibble his neck.  


The eldest could not answer, his voice drowned by the deep thrust that filled his body. A threatening and hungry growl was all that was managed to utter, finding with shining eyes the mocking of Nolofinwë, who initiated a monotonous and growing rhythm, striking the nerve point in Fëanáro. Soon the snarl was transformed into a deep and choked moan, and the crown prince threw his head back, offering the throat to the bites of Nolofinwë. He tangled his fingers in his black straight hair as he scratched at the muscled back and shoulder.  


“Fuck!” He howled at last, his cock hard in the heat and the pressure between his bellies. “Swear to me ... that no ... he's not you ... he's not your lover.”  
“Who?”, Nolofinwë asked, lost in the speed and the impetus of the attacks.  
“The va-anyarin. Swear th-th-that he’s no … he's ...  
“Lauro. It's. Not. My. Lover.” he assured, each word highlighted by an onslaught, his voice a hoarse animal roar.  
“Nobody ... Oh yes, Nolvo, like that! ... No one can ... I'll tear anybody who ...” A long moan and the mouth of Nolofinwë falling, fierce “... that has you in ... this ... way. Nolvo, this is delicious! Harder, my love, faster.”  


Nolofinwë obeyed and in a few thrusts, Fëanáro modulated the name of his brother from the depths of his soul, ejaculating in the warmth between their bodies with violent spasms. It was enough for the other elf to let go and reach the climax, generously filling the body of his older brother. They remained on the ground - Nolofinwë almost vanished on Fëanáro's chest, modulating sensual sounds of delight and fatigue; Fëanáro letting his fingers run through the loose hair, with tenderness, his sphincter still beating around the remaining possession. Finally, Nolofinwë stood up on one elbow and with a soft kiss on the shoulder of his half-brother, he pulled away. Fëanáro watched him through the long lashes, following him as he left the cabinet for a door. He heard the sound of running water and sat down, grimacing when everything hurt in response to the fierce possession. Nolofinwë returned after a moment with a silver vessel and knelt by his side. He took from the basin a piece of canvas immersed in perfumed water and with gentle touches, he cleaned his brother as if it were a child. Fëanáro let him do it, enjoying the care and the nudity of the other.  


“You enjoy doing this, right?” He asked at last.  
“Being close to you without you snapping me like a wolf?” Nolofinwë smiled, naughty. “Indeed.”  
“If I snap at you ..." began Fëanáro; but he stopped, as if he wavered. His brother looked up expectantly. “If I snap at you, it's because I want to devour you. All of you.”, he added, sliding a finger along the outline of Nolofinwë's jaw before stroking his lips. “Absolutely everything, Nolvo.”  


Nolofinwë’s hands stopped for a moment as he looked into his brother's eyes. Gently, he ventured his tongue and brushed the tip of Fëanáro's finger before continue cleaning him.  


“You are welcome to try it whenever you feel like it.” he commented, carefree.  
“It's ... It's not just the power of the earth, right?” Fëanáro questioned again, seeking confirmation of his previous discovery. “It's ... you feel something for me, right, Nolvo? You love **me**.  
“I've always loved you, Curufinwë. I have never said the opposite.” He left the cloth in the water. “And no, it's not just the power of the earth. It has never been only the power of the earth.”  
“Are you implying that you love everyone you've owned?”, demanded the elder, with flashing eyes of rage and jealousy.  


Nolofinwë burst out laughing and bent down to kiss him.  


"Everyone has his gift, big brother. If you ... dislike that I can take other males ... and females, for the sake of ritual, you have how to prevent it from happening like that. Come. Let me help you dress. Believe it or not, Laurefindë and I were working, and now I'll have to read the report for tomorrow.”  
“Are you kicking me out?”, he frowned.  
“Of course not.” He watched him, thoughtful. “Do you want to go to my room and accompany me while I read the report?”  


Fëanáro grimaced, thinking that he should reject the invitation, dismiss Nolofinwë's attempt at cordiality, and respond with his usual mordacity. But the memory of his brother's tenderness, of devotion even in the passion with which he took him, held his tongue.  


“I do not have anything better to do. Also, you get a valid opinion about it.” Turning to pick up his pants, Fëanáro did not see the triumphant smile of Nolofinwë.

**Finwë and Fëanáro**  


Finwë sat up to embrace his eldest son, kissing him on the forehead.  


“Father?” Fëanáro asked when perceiving his frown. “What do you care about?”  
“Your brother.” sighed the king.  


The prince concealed a grimace.  
“Nolofinwë?” Immediately, he bit his tongue: in another time, he would have replied that he had no brothers and now ...  
“He has a lover. Or at least that's what everyone says.”  
“A lover? Male?”  
“Prince Laurefindë. Do you think it's true?”  
“No”, he denied firmly and to perceive the intrigued look of his father, he added, more calmly: “I do not think the young vanyarin is his type. I think that if he has a lover ... a male ... Nolofinwë would prefer someone more ... dominant.  
“Do you believe that? I had not thought of such a thing. How…?”  
“It usually happens that males with absolute control of their daily lives, prefer ... to be dominated in sex.”  


Like him, he admitted, remembering the hours in his half-brother’s bedroom. With absolute sincerity, Nolofinwë had tried to study the report; but after the first two paragraphs, he had to leave the parchment so that Fëanáro would not tear it apart while trying to kiss and bite his neck and chest before going down to the belly ... and more. On this occasion, when both were totally immersed in the fire of passion, Fëanáro let his brother lead all the way to the most brutal ecstasy. Yes, submitting to the desire and experience of Nolofinwë had been the greatest aphrodisiac. Dominated by lust ... and love ... he had reached the highest climax of his life, surrendering.  


“Then, I do not have to worry about Laurefindë” breathed a relieved Finwë.  
“Actually” Fëanáro said, “it seems to me that it would be convenient to take some measure. The young Vanya is ... fascinated by our Nolofinwë and ... it could get a little heavy if we don’t hold him back ... **you hold him back** , I mean, father. Maybe, instead of studying with Nolofinwë, he could ... receive his diplomacy lessons with ... Turukáno perhaps? Or Macalaurë? My son will not mind being helpful.  
“Findekáno would be more useful”, reflected the king.  


Fëanáro was about to agree to any option in order to take away that golden charm from his ... half-brother; however, in that instant he remembered Maitimo's possessive gaze lingering on his cousin's warm features.  


“Findekáno and Nelyo often work with Nolofinwë. And Findekáno is too much like his father. You would not be more than ... dilating the solution.”  
“You're right. I'll take care of that today. I hope that keeping Laurefindë away from him does not make the rumors worse. Although between the two of us, I think it is more envy than slander.”  
“Envy of Nolofinwë for seducing the golden prince?”  
“Envy of Laurefindë for getting into the bed of our Nolofinwë”, raised a brow Finwë, amused. “Don’t you know? Ornendil and Amandur have been fighting Nolvo's attention for years, and expecting to be your brother's first male lover.”  
“I had no idea” frowned Fëanáro, taking note of the names and deciding that he had to make it clear to those two gentlemen that Nolofinwë was not available. Never.  
“I do not think that Nolvo is interested in either of them. They don’t fit into your description of a possible lover for him. So, speaking of something else, have you thought about what to give to Nolvo? In two weeks it's his begetting day, remember?  
“I'll think of something” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, while in his mind he drew the necklace he would make for his brother, silver and lapis lazuli, stars intertwining with each other to form a network around the slender and elegant neck , resting on the top of the firm chest. And matching earrings.  


A smile curved the prince's sensual mouth: making jewelry for Nolofinwë had always been a pleasure. And until now, Fëanáro had not realized how much he enjoyed seeing him use them.  


“Curufinwë?” his father watched him. “I notice something different in you today. Tell me, my son, do you have an affair?”


End file.
